Hell On Tracks
Part 26

My poor mood faded as I hung out with Jane, while her parents went off grab seats and food for the upcoming big match. Jane said she would follow them, but wanted to make sure I was okay first. Though since she said "she" instead of my name, she might have been talking about the tank. She was weird, probably the weirdest person I had met this side of the Pacific Ocean, but she was also cheerful, and liked tanks. And she was attending Saunders, while her dad was an officer at American naval base in Sasebo.

It was a nice setup, I thought. Good schooling, time away from home, but also the ability to visit the family whenever you wanted with very little prep. You know, so long as the school ship was in the Nagasaki area, rather than at sea. I kind of wished that I could have similar arrangements. See my family and all my old friends every now and then.

Jane left just before the third and final match started, and I crawled out of the bow gunner's seat, and into my commander's hatch. The Bandits hadn't left me a note or anything saying where they had gone, but I had to assume that they'd ran off to do their own thing as soon as I had been dragged off by Kay. That was just how they were. Off doing their own thing as soon as someone wasn't looking at them.

Maybe they were setting the right example, there. Maybe I was taking this all too seriously, trying my absolute hardest to get everything right, showing up plenty early to make sure things were 100%, befriending the team captain and occasionally asking her for pointers. Maybe I should have noticed the problems that the Bandits raised sooner, and brought them up with the leadership.

Maybe maybe maybe.

There wasn't any point in maybes right now. What had happened was that I had screwed up, Angel had shot an allied tank two different times, and Kay had blamed me for it. Just thinking about it made me feel extra awful. Right now, I really just wanted nothing to do with tankery or the tankery team. My crew had screwed me over, and the leadership thought it was all my fault, and they were all just the worst for it!

I wanted to go back to the ship. Hide away in my dorm, and not come out until the weekend was over and I had to go to classes. Skip Tankery entirely, avoid Kay, Arisa, Naomi, and everyone else. All of them!

But that might be a bad idea. People would get worried, come check on me. Arisa knew where my dorm room was, and could come knocking whenever she wanted. Hiding wasn't an option. Running away was even less of an option, because I would end up who knows how lost, and that… that would be even worse than dealing with people.

Maybe I could just drop out and get a flight home? There was an airport in Nagasaki, and that wasn't even considering just getting a flight straight off of Saunders. It was based off of an aircraft carrier's design, after all.

That… it was also a bad idea. Might be even worse than just hiding and waiting things out. People would be upset, my parents and sisters would be overly concerned and probably try to helicopter help me, probably sign me back up for a therapist, that sort of thing. People at school would be curious as to why I came back despite being on a year's foreign exchange trip, and rumors would spread. Probably nasty ones.

They were all bad ideas, and it was a bad situation.

The best shot I had would probably just transfer out of Sensha-do. Maybe flower arrangement would be less stressful, and it would certainly be less exciting.

Yeah, that sounded good. At the end of the day, I would go home to my dorm, lock the door for the weekend, and come Monday I would see about swapping classes. People would probably call me a coward for running from Sensha-do, but that was perfectly fine with me.


My last experience in my tank, or what I hoped would be my last experience with that tank, was to drive it over to the train station and load it onto a cargo car with three other tanks, all heading back to Saunders. I didn't even bother getting on one of the busses for the Tankery team, instead getting on one full of Saunders students who had come to watch the game. I ended up sandwiched against the wall by a girl I didn't know, and we didn't converse at all on the way back to the ship.

There was a package waiting for me at the front desk of the dorm building, from home. A care package with a whole bunch of goodies that I'm sure I would have enjoyed if not for my earlier panic attack and the whole kerfuffle around it. Instead of being excited and ripping the package open at the first private opportunity, I just sort of dropped it on my desk next to my laptop.

From there, I mechanically changed out of my wet and now dried clothes, pulled on a bathrobe, showered, and put on pajamas before collapsing into bed.

Despite how exhausted I was, I didn't fall asleep right away. My futon felt lumpy and uncomfortable beneath me, and no matter how I tossed and turned, I couldn't get comfortable. It was awful. At first I was too warm, so I pulled a few covers away, but then I was much too cold, but when I moved around and adjusted, I was too hot again.

I didn't get much sleep. The little sleep I got was fitful, restless, and full of bad dreams about tankery, the Saunders team, and the few friends I had made here.

It was nearly noon when I finally woke up. I didn't want to move away from my bed, but it was drenched with sweat, and the sun was shining directly in my eyes. Sweaty bedsheets were the worst, and I would need to wash them today at some point. Alongside everything else that needed washing, really.

Someone knocked at my door. They used the classic shave and a haircut rhythm, and it was loud enough that I couldn't just tune them out, no matter how I wanted to. So, I rolled out of bed, impacting the ground with a soft thump that actually helped wake me up, and crawled to my feet. Another knock came, and I grumbled, quickly running a brush through my mess of hair.

Have some patience, will you?

They weren't being patient, and I peeked through the eyehole in the door. The familiar mess of blonde hair could only be one person, and I nearly opened the door for her. With my hand on the door's handle, I froze. I wasn't sure if I was ready to talk with Kay again. Not after yesterday.

No doubt she wanted to apologize for yesterday. For me to forgive and forget. For everything to be hunky-dory, and for everyone to hop back onto the wonderful and glorious ride that was Tankery.

My hand came off the door's handle, and I backed up as Kay knocked again. She lost the pattern, and just started knocking rapidly.

"Tally, I know you're in there! Please come out!" She shouted in English. "We're all worried about you!"

I bit my tongue.

"Tally, please. I'm sorry! I screwed up, badly. It's not your fault! Please, just come out! Talk to me! Tell me off, scream and yell! Something!"

With a heavy sigh, I kicked the door. No communications beyond letting her know I was alive. I could give her that much.

"I'm sorry Tally. I want to make it up to you. Anything you want, please just let me know." Kay said, dropping her volume substantially. "Please."

The one-sided conversation trailed off there, and Kay grew quiet. After a brief moment, she slid a note under the door. She didn't knock or say anything after that.

I picked up the note, and unfolded it. Unsurprisingly, it was a letter, though written in English instead of Japanese.

Tally,

The student leadership of the Saunders Sensha-do team has wronged you. During the match against Maple, they saw that your tank had fired upon an ally, and immediately assumed that the tank commander was at fault. They acted with haste, and without consulting video evidence from the match. This was a mistake, and against the principles of Sensha-do, of being precise, and thinking before acting.

This does not excuse that you were hurt by this mistake. If it suits you, or if you are planning on leaving the Sensha-do team, please come meet with me at your convenience. My offices are located at the Sensha-do garage, and in the main sports building on campus. I would like to issue a formal apology to you in person, and to help you find the next step in your education here at Saunders, whatever that may be.

-Signed
Instructor Moran
The Chieftain

I wasn't sure what to think. Words escaped me as I sat at my desk and read the letter over again. It might be a good idea to at least speak with him. Talking with the instructor would certainly help with the whole changing of classes, and I didn't even necessarily have to meet him over by the Tankery garage.

It was curious that he sent the letter as a hand written letter through Kay, rather than as an email, but I could ask him about it later. Monday later.

For now, I had a care package from home to open up.